If You Live Through This, You Won't Look Back
by 1957
Summary: And Kaoru never forgot the distance between them that day. Kyouya x Kaoru. Hikaru x Kaoru. Tamaki x Kyouya. Lemons.


**A/N:** Someone on LJ wanted me to write a Kyouya x Kaoru fic, and I rather liked that idea so I did. This fic turned out to be so much longer than what I had initially expected. It certainly took somewhere near four to five hours to write which is a lot of time for me to write a fic. It is pretty long, though, roughly 4,500 words. There were also two sex scenes in here that were pretty taxing to write (since I am often at a loss for how to describe sex). In any case, I hope everyone enjoys this story! Please review if you like it!

**Disclaimer:** _Ouran High School Host Club_ does not belong to me. All characters mentioned belong to someone else.

-----

**If You Live Through This, You Won't Look Back**

-----

The first time Hikaru and Kaoru were separated was at the foot of a tall wall that stretched like a ladder into the sky. They were young then, no more than five or six, and small enough to believe that the wall was high enough to scrape heaven. They looked up at it with their mouths falling open, their small heads leaning back like rockers on their necks. The sun beat on their freckles and the clouds framed their golden eyes, and like cats, they pawed and prodded the rough brick in the thick summer heat.

Hikaru wanted to climb it immediately like he always did: fast, quick, reckless. He grabbed a vine that dressed the wall and pulled hard, testing the strength of the plant. Satisfied, he lodged a foot into the matrix brick and cement and pushed himself up. He turned back to his twin and grinned a Cheshire grin before hoisting himself further up the wall.

Kaoru stared at Hikaru wide-eyed and trembling, and found himself too heavy to move. His eyes darted from his brother to the sky to the trees to the vines to his brother. He thought of the height of the structure, the sea of blue he would see perched at the top, the stifling humidity that suffocated him, and couldn't lift a limb. Instead, all he could do was stand and stare at his brother, counting the rows of bricks Hikaru had climbed.

Hikaru looked over his shoulder and frowned at his twin standing alone in the weeds, but was too high up to give up. He licked his lips and reached for the top, his small bruised hand stretching. He shouted as he caught the ledge of the wall and struggled onto the top. And he looked at everything that was before him, wild landscape of sky that sat before him, the sighs of clouds drifting languidly through the air, and his twin still staring quietly from the ground. Hikaru smiled widely and waved at his brother, but the younger boy didn't move, just stared and stared and stared.

And Kaoru never forgot the distance between them that day.

-----

Kaoru runs into Kyouya at the grocery market one day in April.

At first they don't recognize each other. It had been about six years since Kaoru's high school graduation and exactly three years and fifty-eight days since he left Hikaru's messy apartment covered with sports magazines for his own sparkling one stacked with Vladimir Nabokov. It had also been two years and one hundred and ninety-seven days since Kyouya's marriage to an European woman with distant eyes. Kaoru doesn't know how he remembers these things since he barely remembers why he needs tomatoes. All Kaoru knows that he just does. And he also just remembers the cluster of freckles that mars the side of Kyouya's neck, which is why Kaoru stops him.

"Hey," he says, hand on Kyouya's elbow. "Long time no see. What's up?"

"Oh," the other man replies, adjusting his glasses, "it's you, Kaoru."

Kaoru pouts, maybe to show that he's fine, "What do you mean, 'just you?' And how do you know that I'm not Hikaru?"

Kyouya's face falls into a laugh-grimace, maybe because they both already know why, "I think I know you better than that, Kaoru. I've handled your finances for long enough."

"That's not knowing me," says Kaoru, his pout still prominent. "That's knowing my money."

"What's the difference?" chuckles Kyouya, maybe to show that he's still the same.

"How's the marriage?" prompts Kaoru as they stroll down the produce aisle, him swinging his bag of tomatoes like a child.

"Divorced," replies Kyouya simply and evenly. "For a year now."

"Oh," says Kaoru stopping. Then the realization hits him. "_Oh_."

"Yeah," says Kyouya, walking past the younger boy. "That pretty much sums it up."

-----

The second time Hikaru and Kaoru were separated was at the swimming pool that stretched like a snake before them. They weren't quite so young then, but still little, maybe ten or eleven, and tiny enough to still fear drowning in the deep end. Hikaru was a better swimmer than Kaoru, even though they both learned how to swim laps at the same time. But Hikaru's body was simply more fluid, more graceful than Kaoru's. Hikaru moved like a bullet darting under water while Kaoru flailed and splashed like the half-drowning little boy that he was.

The instructor leaned down to Hikaru one day and whispered something in his ear, the long red whistle hanging loosely down his hairy chest. When the instructor was finished, Hikaru had an excited look on his face and jumped out of the water with little hesitation. His wet feet patter-pattered over the floor, leaving tiny footprints in his wake. Then, almost as if he had forgotten a towel, he turned to Kaoru and yelled that he had been promoted to a faster class. Then all that was left was the slap of skin against cement and the clink of goggles against chin. And Kaoru just stared and stared and stared.

And Kaoru never forgot the distance between them that day.

-----

"How's Hikaru?" asks Kyouya as they sip tea next to their bags of raw fish and vegetables. They are sitting in a common tea shop drinking common tea, and Kaoru thinks it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He smiles as he looks across the table and sees someone who looks completely different from himself, and for a second he forgets that he is a twin. But it's just for a second, because then he starts missing the familiarity of freckles and smiles and mischief. Kyouya stares at him behind frameless glasses and Kaoru doesn't know what he's thinking. That makes Kaoru panic just a little.

"Good," Kaoru says, sipping his tea. "Great. Engaged."

"To who?" asks Kyouya like he already knows this.

"Some rich girl who wears Givenchy," says Kaoru waving a gloved hand. April is still cold and he can see his breath. "Big boobs, big ass. All of that on Gucci stilettos."

"She must be happy," comments Kyouya, completely neutral. "She's marrying the son of a famous fashion designer."

"Yeah, she must be," grumbles Kaoru through his tea, "for her to be that loud in bed."

"You still live with Hikaru?" asks Kyouya, the cock of his brow somehow maddening to Kaoru.

"No, I moved out three years ago," says Kaoru.

He doesn't tell Kyouya that he still hears the moans in his head anyway.

-----

The third time Hikaru and Kaoru were separated was at Karuizawa which smelled like flowers and greens all around. They weren't so much young as they were reckless, maybe fourteen or fifteen, awkward enough to be sliced down the center by the touch of a girl. They looked at Haruhi, feminine and beautiful in her apron covered with frills, a little like how they would look at an alien. She smiled at them as she did her chores and they smiled back, one in genuine adoration, the other in uniform. She frowned as she noticed, but she looked away so that they wouldn't know that she knew.

Kaoru kicked his brother down the stairs that day so that Hikaru would stop complaining and go on the date with Haruhi. It was funny in a morbid way, but Kaoru was in too much of a bad mood to laugh. Instead, he just kept dragging, and kicking, and shouting at his brother until Hikaru had disappeared through the door grumbling. Kaoru sighed as he watched Hikaru walk down the road, his back disappearing over the curve of the horizon. He watched as that fine summer day swirled over Hikaru like a crown.

And, for once, instead of just staring and staring and staring, Kaoru pushed away from the railing and walked away.

And somehow that helped the distance a little, though Kaoru still remembered it.

-----

"Nabokov," comments Kyouya as he glances over Kaoru's bookshelves. "Never thought you'd be so classy."

Kaoru snorted, "There's nothing classy about Nabokov. It's just sex with themes. Thematic sex. I guess. If it works that way."

"_Lolita_ is certainly much more than thematic sex," replies Kyouya, picking up a book. "Racy, but it's not just thematic sex."

"Then you're looking too hard at it," bites Kaoru, snatching the book away from Kyouya. He tosses the hardback aside and it lands somewhere between the coffee table and the sofa. "Because sex is sex is sex is sex. And that's all it is until you start thinking too hard about it."

"So it's all just the same?" says Kyouya, laughter coloring his eyes a little, but the glare of his glasses makes it hard to see. "Doesn't matter who, where, when?"

"All it matters is if it's good or bad," grins Kaoru, his amber eyes glinting. He is leaning dangerously close to Kyouya, his nose brushing like a faint eskimo kiss on the other's nose.

"Did you ever do it with Hikaru?" Kyouya breathes.

"Did you ever do it with Tamaki?" snaps Kaoru in a harsh breath of words, but he doesn't pull away.

"Yes," whispers Kyouya, "yes I did."

"How was it?" giggles Kaoru, playfully, like a schoolgirl. "Was the Prince any good?"

"It was," Kyouya hesitates. "Late." Too late. Kaoru thinks that's what Kyouya means at least.

Kaoru nods his head slightly, the light going out of his eyes, his mouth once again straight like grave plots.

"And you?" prompts Kyouya, nudging the redhead, already undoing the younger man's scarf.

"Yeah," rasps Kaoru, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I did it. I fucked my twin brother." Because I loved him. But Kaoru didn't say that.

"Before or after you fucked me?" asks Kyouya, unbuttoning the top buttons of Kaoru's collar.

"Before," supplies Kaoru, shivering under Kyouya's cold touch.

"I see," whispers Kyouya, thoroughly amused by the tremble in Kaoru's bones, the blush that spread through his cheeks. "And was it good?"

Kaoru laughs and nuzzles Kyouya's collarbone like they had only just parted yesterday. "What, are you going to write this in that book of yours?"

There is a silence as Kyouya's lips fall like snow on Kaoru's, softly, and without much moisture, but it is refreshing nonetheless.

"It was," Kaoru hesitates. "Bitter."

Because I loved him. But Kaoru didn't say that.

-----

The fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth times Hikaru and Kaoru were separated all blurred together into one jarred memory of skin and sweat. They weren't really young anymore then, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but still desperate enough to get down on all fours and beg for gratification. They looked at each other with hooded eyes--one in genuine adoration, the other in uniform--before falling into a tangle of limbs and messy kisses filled with teeth. They rocked together, their bodies stuck to each other, groaning until they couldn't stand the friction anymore and one of them succumbed to lust and waggled his rear as he got on his knees. That person was usually Kaoru, but once it was Hikaru. Just once though.

Sex with Hikaru always hurt more than it was pleasurable, though there was nothing wrong with Hikaru's technique. It was just that whenever Kaoru touched the smooth skin of his brother, he felt sin flush through him like a flame. He couldn't help it, so he just silenced it by taking Hikaru's hard penis into his mouth and sucked at the head, tasting the salt of his brother. He lapped up Hikaru's groans with glee as he kissed along the jutting hip bone, tongue dipping into the navel as he made his way up. Kaoru would flash a smile at Hikaru before turning around and parting his legs, inviting the older boy to enter him.

He always gasped sharply as Hikaru grasped his penis with a firm hand, stroking the organ quickly as he inserted fingers into the tight ring of muscles before him. Hikaru always knew the right places to touch because there weren't any new places to learn. Every time Kaoru would break into a writhing mess of half-screams, half-moans as Hikaru petted his prostate with aggravating casualness. Eventually Kaoru would twist and beg for Hikaru, rasping 'please, please, please' into the sheets until either Hikaru got sick of playing or finally heard him.

Penetration was always new to Kaoru. No matter how Hikaru did it, Kaoru never seemed to get used to the sensation of his brother inside him, sheathed and pulsing. He would groan loudly as if he were in pain, but accepted it with relaxed muscles. He never asked Hikaru to slow down or stop, he just took it as it was and thrust back. The rhythm was always perfect, like they could read each other's minds, but in some way completely impersonal and artificial. Kaoru always finished fast, never one to outdo Hikaru in athletics, but he liked it like that. Kaoru liked hearing Hikaru gasp as he clenched tightly around his penis. He liked it when Hikaru dug his nails into his hips as he sprayed his seed all over the sheets. And he especially liked it when his brother came in him, the warmth of Hikaru staying in him long after the affair.

But there was always the lukewarm afterwards where they just laid there, quiet and dazed, not knowing what to do or say or think. And then Hikaru would get up and take a shower, leaving Kaoru staring at the cracks on the ceiling. And Kaoru just stared and stared and stared.

But at that point Kaoru was already getting used to the distance, and he didn't think he cared quite as much.

-----

"Why'd you guys break up?" asks Kaoru as he walks his elbows back on the bed, his spine arches gracefully and the lines catch Kyouya's attention. The older man traces the bones of Kaoru's shoulder blades lazily before sitting up on his side of the bed.

"Because," says Kyouya, "I figured that I only had one life to live, and I didn't want to live that life with someone I didn't love."

"How uncharacteristic of you," mock-scolds Kaoru as he sticks out his tongue. "You must have lost a lot of money in the divorce. Suddenly discovering that you don't actually love your wife doesn't fly well in courts I hear."

"I also caught her in bed with another man," Kyouya tacks on casually. Kaoru's eyes widen and then fill with sympathy. "I didn't love her much to begin with, but that was the real wake-up call, I guess. For weeks after that, all I could think was 'what am I doing?'"

"What are you doing?" asks Kaoru as he reaches for a stick of Pocky sitting on the dresser. "What are you doing grocery shopping at least?"

"I think," answers Kyouya with a smile, a soft smile and not a professional one, "I'm just living the way I want to live."

Kaoru doesn't seem to grasp the implications, or doesn't want to, so he leans on his back and says, "Wanna hear a story?"

"Sure," Kyouya says with a slight frown.

"I still remember this for some odd reason," begins Kaoru, his forehead wrinkling. "It's like it won't go away. It's so stupid, but it won't go away."

"Just tell me what it is already," sighs Kyouya, impatient. Kaoru makes a face at him, but obeys.

"When Hikaru and I were younger, there was this wall, you know? It was a really tall wall then, but then, we were also really short," Kaoru laughs at the memory of being short and squat and doddering around in diapers, holding hands with-- "And Hikaru just grabs this thick vine hanging off the wall and starts climbing it, really Indiana Jones style. And, well, usually I'd have gone up with him. Eventually I did, but that day, I just couldn't. I was just so afraid and I stood there staring at him as he went higher and higher until he was so high that he was in the sky. And he looked down at me. And I looked up at him. And I just knew that even if I came back tomorrow and climbed that wall with him, it'd still always be like that. Him up there, me down here. It'd always turn out like..."

Kaoru chokes, but no one can tell if it's because he's talking with Pocky in his mouth or because he's swallowing tears.

"This."

Kyouya doesn't offer anything so Kaoru tries to fill in the silence.

"And ever since there's been a wall. Him. Me. Him. Me. HimMeHim. And I have these crazy dreams where I try to cross that wall so that I can be with him, but I can't. Every time I try to breech the wall, I stop and just stare--"

Kyouya shuts Kaoru up with a kiss so that he won't have to hear Kaoru's hollow laugh.

-----

The tenth time Hikaru and Kaoru were separated was the last time anyone bothered to keep count. They were old then, still seventeen or eighteen though, but so much older than what anyone should have been. Hikaru was out with Haruhi, their eyes flitting over each others' bodies shyly, their fingers touching only barely as they walked down the hallway together. The host club was closed that day, perhaps because Hikaru and Haruhi weren't there, perhaps because everyone else wanted to spy on the two instead of entertain guests. In the end, there was only Kaoru and Kyouya sitting alone and quiet in the bask of the ruby sunset. The large windows let the crimson light spill into the room in torrents, the fever rushing through the music room in caged shadows. The room was silent save for Kyouya's scratch-scratch on his clipboard and Kaoru's occasional page-turning.

"What are you reading?" Kyouya must have said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Sylvia Plath," answered Kaoru with a bored loll of his voice. "Her journals."

"Any good?" asked Kyouya. Casual. Unassuming.

"Sort of raunchy at times, but pretty good," replied Kaoru, flipping a page. "I'm at the part where she pines for Emile."

"Pining," noted Kyouya, perhaps writing it in his clipboard. "That's never pleasant."

"No," yawned Kaoru. "Pining is no good."

"He's gone." The words tumbled out like an attack. Kaoru didn't seem to be too surprised though. It almost seemed expected.

"Yeah," agreed Kaoru. But he wanted to add a stab of his own, so he said, "Tamaki too."

There was an uncomfortable shuffle and Kaoru rolls his eyes. For once he was one step ahead of Kyouya, and he wanted to gloat. He turned to look at Kyouya only to find the older boy a few inches away from his face, dark eyes boring into his skin. Their breaths became heavy as the heat traveled between them and they both knew what was going to happen.

"What?" snarl-sighed Kaoru, his lidded glare softened. "If you're gonna fuck me, then just fuck me. I don't give a shit."

"You're giving up on him?" whispered Kyouya, studying the other boy. "Just like tha--"

Kaoru shut Kyouya up with a kiss so that he wouldn't have to hear his own confessions pouring from Kyouya's mouth.

The kiss was wild and full of grand gestures, as if hand movements could fill in the emptiness of the situation. Kaoru pushed hard against Kyouya, his mouth pressing roughly against the other boy. Kyouya pushed back just as hard, slamming Kaoru against the table, his fingers grasping the furniture to pin the other boy down. Kaoru groaned loudly but did not protest.

Expert fingers unraveled the striped tie and unsnapped the buttons of Kaoru's blazer. The jacket was brushed off his limbs in fluid motions. Kaoru shivered as he felt the cold of early spring wrap around his skin, but soon found his tremors quenched by Kyouya's maddening touches. The older boy palmed Kaoru's hardening erection as he undid Kaoru's shirt, the light material fluttering away from the younger boy's chest like petals.

Kyouya licked down Kaoru's neck, a hand tickling the column as a tongue trailed wet streams down the pale skin. Kyouya's mouth paused at a collarbone where rough teeth pulled and bruised the small valley and peak. A finger tweaked a nipple, and Kaoru could feel Kyouya smile against his flushed skin. A hand was undoing his belt, and all Kaoru could do was thrust into the warm hand that teased him through the fabric of his pants.

"What are we doing? What are we doing? What are we doing? What are we doing?" gasped Kaoru over and over again, his head spinning. But he already knew what they were doing and he couldn't stop it.

"Do you want me to stop?" asked Kyouya, looking up at Kaoru, his body resting between the younger boy's legs. "I can stop if you want me to."

"No," answered Kaoru, a sob in his voice but his eyes were tearless and clear. "It's okay."

Kyouya nodded and took Kaoru's penis into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hot flesh until Kaoru was screaming in ecstasy. Kaoru reached for his book bag behind him and grasped a half-used tube of lubricant in the front pocket, his hands unsteady. He breaths were exploding from his lips in ragged rhythms then, his hips almost bucking if it weren't for Kyouya's steady hands. He gave Kyouya the tube and the older boy took it without question, slathering the cold gel onto his fingers wordlessly. Kaoru grimaced as he felt a slick finger enter him as Kyouya's mouth continued spiral around his erection. He moved his legs over Kyouya's shoulders so the quiet boy could reach deeper into him, his voice whining for gratification.

"Do it," Kaoru gritted, his eyes closed. "Don't bother taking time, just do it. I can take it."

But Kyouya didn't pay any attention to the younger boy. He took his time inserting one finger after another, stretching and probing until he felt satisfied. He looked at Kaoru whose eyes were screwed shut, his mouth flapping open in the suffocating heat. Kyouya smiled at the boy and licked the droplets from the corners of Kaoru's eyes.

Kaoru moaned as Kyouya entered him slowly and without haste. Sex with Kyouya was a calculating affair, with a steady and inviolable beat that didn't change even under the most passionate situations. Kyouya moved at his own pace, did things his own way. He didn't take Kaoru's wheezed and whimpered suggestions well, but touched him more than Hikaru ever did. His eyes never left Kaoru's expressive face and his hands never left Kaoru's burning body. He held the other boy close and kissed his moaning mouth through the thrusts. A hand wrapped around Kaoru's penis and pumped in time with Kaoru's cries, and it wasn't long before Kaoru came shuddering and screaming in Kyouya's hands.

Kyouya rocked against Kaoru a few more times before spilling himself into the boy's heated body, his hot seed filling Kaoru.

And then they laid there for a long moment, filling the spaces of the room with nothing but their rasping breath, before cleaning up their uniforms. But even then, Kyouya did not leave. He just straightened his tie and watched as Kaoru gathered his books. They both sat quietly, side by side, in awkward silence and stared and stared and stared.

And Kaoru never forgot the sinking in his heart as he finally waved the white flag at Hikaru's smiling image.

-----

"Do you think there's a wall between us?" asks Kyouya as he pulls on his shirt, his hair still wet from the shower, his muscles still tingling from the sex.

"Yes," answers Kaoru, but then his face scrunches and he changes his mind. "Maybe."

"Am I staring at you from the top of the wall?" presses Kyouya as he buttons the fabric together. "Or is it the other way around?"

"I don't know," snaps Kaoru, impatient. "What do you think?"

"I think," starts Kyouya thoughtfully, "I'm waiting. On the top or at the foot, I don't care, but I'm waiting for you to come down or go up."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demands Kaoru, irritated.

"It means what it means what it means what it means," says Kyouya, drawing on his jacket. "But whatever that means, I think you should keep trying. Approach the wall again and again and again, until one day you climb it. Whether you climb it to join me, or climb it to join Hikaru doesn't matter. Just keep approaching the wall until it happens."

"That's what you think?" whispers Kaoru meekly.

"That's what I think," answers Kyouya as he slips into his shoes. "Now what do you think?"

-----

The last time Hikaru and Kaoru were separated was at the doorway of their then-apartment. They weren't really much of anything then, just cobwebs and ghosts really, but still enough of something to be angry. Kaoru was carrying a box of books then, his foot wedged against the door to keep it open. Hikaru was behind him, his head up in flames, his mouth sputtering and furious. The older twin grabbed the box, trying to pull Kaoru into the apartment.

"What are you doing?" screamed Hikaru, his face black with anger.

"Moving," replied Kaoru, his face blank and weighted.

"Why?" howled Hikaru, tears coming to his eyes. "Why?"

"You know why," said Kaoru before shoving the box into Hikaru's arm and sprinting down the stairs as fast as he could.

And Hikaru stared and stared and stared after him.

And they never forgot the distance between them that day.

-----

Kaoru twists the telephone cord in his fingers as he chews restlessly on a pencil. The receiver is jammed between his ear and his shoulder as he fidgets with pages of the phone book.

"Hello?" comes the familiar voice. There is a long silence, but the hello isn't repeated because they both know who it is.

"Hey," croaks Kaoru. "Long time, Hikaru."

"Yeah," says Hikaru. "A really long time, Kaoru." There is a trace of a smile.

"Married yet?" asks Kaoru, he stops flipping through the book and rocks against the sofa.

"No," replies Hikaru.

"No?" repeats Kaoru like a ghost.

"Waiting," answers Hikaru. Another shadow of a smile carries through the lines.

"Look," starts Kaoru, his voice loudly rupturing the lilting conversation, "do you remember this wall that we used to climb when we were little?"

"Yeah," says Hikaru, perplexed but willing. "Yeah I do."

"Do you remember what happened the first time we tried to climb it?" prompts Kaoru, his voice shaking.

"You climbed with me, right?" answers Hikaru, confused. "And we stood on top together and looked at the sky."

All the sound that Kaoru can hear is the thumping of his heart against his throat.

"Yeah," Kaoru forces. "That's what happened."

"Good," says Hikaru. "Good." Bye.

"Right," says Kaoru, the room blurring. "Good." Bye.

They both hang up at the same time like they always did, their movements synchronized and intertwined, their breathing both ragged and sobbing. But Kaoru only stays like that for a moment before drying his tears and picking up the phone again. He dials the numbers with a shaking hand, but a smiling mouth.

"Hello?" comes the familiar voice.

"Hey Kyouya," whispers Kaoru, there is a trace of a smile.

"Kaoru?" replies Kyouya, there is a shadow of a smile carried through the lines. "It's late."

"I've been thinking," starts Kaoru, propping his feet up. "About walls."

"Yeah?" says Kyouya, his voice inquisitive because he wasn't synchronized or intertwined. He was just another guy.

"And how I'd like to try one more time," says Kaoru.

"Whose wall?" asks Kyouya, his breath catching as if he were holding it.

"The only one that matters anymore," replies Kaoru, his face breaking into grins, his eyes curving for the first time in years.

And suddenly the distance didn't seem so far anymore.


End file.
